


You're Wide Awake and You're Missing Out

by Switch842



Category: Glee
Genre: AU, M/M, Soulmates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-20
Updated: 2012-11-20
Packaged: 2017-11-19 02:31:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,151
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/568060
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Switch842/pseuds/Switch842
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dr. Blaine Anderson finally finds his soul mate. And it's on the operating table where he's fighting to save Kurt's life.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You're Wide Awake and You're Missing Out

**Author's Note:**

> Unbetad. Title from Rob Thomas' "Getting Late." So, a couple weeks ago, ssecca01 made this post on tumblr:
>
>> I just left this prompt in someones ask:  
> prompt: Soulmate au. Doctor Blaine Anderson first finds his soulmate Kurt Hummel in the worst possible way: on his operating table, life slipping away by the second from injuries in a 5 car pileup.
> 
> And, well, I couldn't resist. So, here it is. 

"All right, people! Listen up!"

Blaine looked up from the chart he was staring at to see Dr. Schuester standing in the middle of the ER, clapping loudly to get everyone's attention.

"There has been a massive ten car pile-up over on 94. The most serious injuries will be coming our way in about twenty minutes. At last count, that was six patients. Anderson, Chang, Parker, Spencer, and Winchester, you will be on point with me. Everyone else, let's work on clearing out as many of the current patients as we can to make room for the incoming. Let's go people!"

Everyone jumped into action at this words, getting the equipment they would need and trying to clear out the patients they had currently occupying beds. The waiting room was packed, unfortunately, but the incoming patients had priority over everyone else at this point.

Blaine grabbed Santana, Noah, and Sugar to get his room prepped. They didn't know the specifics of any injuries yet, but they were bound to be life-threatening. The kits were ready, blood was ready. All they needed was the patient.

Everyone was gathered in the waiting room fifteen minutes later. The sound of sirens was growing closer and everyone was on edge. Soon enough, the first gurney came crashing through the doors. Will took the first patient, a young woman with a large head wound and her leg bleeding profusely. Mike took the next, an elderly man with a crushed rib cage and a splint around his hips. Blaine took the next one.

"What do we got?" he asked the EMTs as they rushed to the prepped room.

"Kurt Hummel, age twenty-nine. Massive internal injuries, puncture of the left shoulder by a large shard of glass, and a compound fracture of the femur. Blood pressure 90 over 60 and falling. Breathing is shallow but steady. He's been unresponsive since we arrived on scene."

"Okay. Let's get him typed and cross for blood. Santana, Noah, get working on that leg. Sugar, you're with me. Let's see if we can get this bleeding stopped."

He ripped open the surgical kit, grabbing for the scalpel to start working on extracting the large shard of glass that was still sticking out of his shoulder. Sugar was on the opposite side, cutting into his chest and calling for suction as blood squirted out everywhere. Blaine carefully cut around the glass, opening the skin as little as he could while still being able to pull the glass out safely. There were probably smaller glass splinters deeper inside, but for now, they had to stem this bleeding.

"Where's my blood?" he called out.

"Coming!" one of the nurses called back.

Blaine glanced down the table just in time to see Noah performing a reflex check. He was pleased to note Kurt's toes curling downward – no nerve damage.

"Setting!" Noah called out.

Everyone stepped back for a second while Noah and Santana pulled and got the leg reset.

"Sugar, talk to me," Blaine said.

"He's got three cracked ribs, one punctured his lung. Chest tube is in and breathing is stabilized. His liver has been lacerated and a possible spleen rupture, but I need to get more of this blood cleared out before I can confirm."

"Let me know when he's stable enough to move; we gotta get him up to the operating room, find out what's going on inside."

They worked quickly for the next half hour, trying to stem the flow of blood and get his blood pressure back up to where it was safe enough to operate. Finally, Blaine felt he was stabilized enough to transport and they got him up to the OR to deal with the worst of his injuries.

Kurt's leg was set and wrapped in plaster; Noah and Santana were the best, and that should heal fine. His shoulder was still a mess, though, and Blaine was having some trouble getting all the glass out.

"I need to go in from back," he said. "Noah, help me roll him."

Noah came over and helped Blaine and Santana roll Kurt onto his side, so Blaine could get at the back of his shoulder. Blaine was about to cut into the skin when a mark on the back of Kurt's neck caught his eye:

 

It was his name, Blaine, in a font all too familiar to him and in the same bright red ink that adorned the top of his foot:

 

This was the Kurt, _his_ Kurt. He had often imagined and wondered what Kurt would look like, the kind of person he would be. He wondered how they would meet; would they instantly know who the other was? Never, in his wildest imagination, did he imagine that he would meet Kurt on the table in his operating room.

"Dr. Anderson?" Sugar asked.

"Yes, sorry," Blaine said, blinking himself out of his haze. "All right. Hold him steady; this shouldn't take long."

Blaine sliced into Kurt's skin, just next to his shoulder blade. The light immediately bounced off a large piece of glass that was still wedged into the muscle. He pulled it out with the forceps, pressing gauze in to stop the fresh bleeding.

"BP still falling," the nurse called out.

"Okay, roll him back," Blaine said. "We've got to find where the blood is coming from."

"BP 80 over 40."

"Damn it," Blaine muttered. He called for more suction, trying to clear enough blood out of Kurt's abdomen to try and see where the blood was coming from. "Got it!" he called as he finally spotted the source – a perforated portion of his small intestine. He got that tied off and turned to check with the nurse.

"BP is stabilizing," she confirmed. "90 over 60."

"Come on," he whispered. That was still too low; it should be rising more than that.

"Still 90 over 60," she said a few minutes later.

"Damn it. He must have gone septic. Push fluids and epinephrine!" he called out. 

"Doctor," Santana said.

He looked over to see her holding the catheter bag. There was blood in it.

"Shit." Renal failure.

They worked tirelessly for the next hour, but nothing was working. His blood pressure just wouldn't come up. Somehow, they had managed to miss one of the most basic things. And now, Kurt Hummel was dying.

Eventually, there was nothing more they could do, and they moved him to the ICU. They kept him medicated and as comfortable as possible, but it was a matter of hours, really. Blaine finished his report and went to keep vigil by Kurt's bedside. There was a small chance he could wake up before the worst happened and Blaine needed to be there if that happened.

Three hours later, Blaine was startled out of his catnap by a groan. He sat up, immediately and looked over Kurt's vital signs. Blood pressure was still steady, but too low; his pulse was slow at 50 beats per minute.

"What…," Kurt mumbled.

"Kurt," Blaine said. "Kurt, can you open your eyes for me?"

Kurt slowly blinked open his eyes and immediately groaned and slammed them shut against the minimal light in his room.

"Where am I?" he asked. 

"You're at Chicago General. You were in an accident."

"An accident?"

"Yes."

"What happened?" Kurt turned to look at Blaine and finally opened his eyes. Blaine gasped at the bright blue and lost his voice for a second.

"Um, there was a ten car pile-up on the highway," he finally said. "You broke your leg and had severe internal injuries."

"Will I be okay, Dr….?"

"Anderson. Dr. Anderson. But you can call me Blaine," he said.

"Blaine?" Kurt said. "Are you…"

"Yes," Blaine said, his eyes tearing with sadness and happiness. "You're my match. And I'm so, so sorry."

"Sorry about what?"

"You're… you're dying," he said bluntly. He would never, ever talk to a patient that way. They were always taught to try and soften the blow as much as possible, but Kurt wasn't any patient. He was Blaine's soul mate and he was going to die.

"I don’t understand," Kurt said.

"During the accident, your car smashed into the back of one of those pickup trucks with used appliances and old garbage in it. A shard of glass pierced your shoulder which, we think, was dirty and your blood became infected. This infection is leading to your organs failing, one by one."

"You can't… you can't stop it?"

"I'm so sorry," Blaine said. "We caught it too late and it spread too quickly. There's nothing we can do."

"No," Kurt said, tears starting to fall from his eyes. "No. That's not fair. I just found you and we can't even be together?"

"I'm so sorry," Blaine said again, the words sounding hollow to his own ears.

"How long?"

"Hours."

Kurt's hands reached out, grasping for Blaine. Blaine fell to his knees beside Kurt's bed, weeping openly at the unfairness of it all.

"I'm sorry," he chanted over and over. He was a doctor; he was supposed to cure people, help them get better. How was it that he managed to fail the most important person to ever come into his life?

"Kiss me," Kurt whispered.

"What?" Blaine asked.

"If this is all we have, then please, give me that. Kiss me before I die."

Blaine immediately surged forward, pressing his lips to Kurt's. The spark was immediate. He'd heard stories, of course, from friends of his who had already met their match, about how instant the connection was. Something as simple as a touch of their fingertips was enough to confirm what the marks on their skin had told them. 

Blaine felt as if his heart would explode. He was simultaneously the happiest and saddest he had ever been. He was so happy he had found Kurt, that he knew who his soul mate was. But so incredibly saddened that these last few hours of Kurt's life was all they would get. It just wasn't fair.

Blaine tasted salt in their kiss, no doubt a mix of their tears. How could life be so wonderful and cruel at the same time?

"Blaine," Kurt said pulling back. "I need to tell you something."

"What is it?"

"Don't try to revive me when the time comes. Just let me go."

"Kurt, no—"

"Blaine. I know what organ failure means; I know how serious this is. Let me die with as much dignity as I can."

Blaine nodded, knowing he couldn't speak. He pressed the button for the nurse's station and they sat there silently, until a nurse came in.

"Yes?" he said.

"Can you please get a DNR form?" Blaine asked.

"DNR?" Kurt asked as the nurse left the room.

"It's the Do Not Resuscitate form. You'll need to sign it to make your wishes official."

"Okay," Kurt agreed. 

The nurse returned quickly enough and the form was signed and tucked away into Kurt's file. And that was it. It was so… final.

"Tell me about you," Kurt said. 

"What do you want to know?"

"Everything."

So, Blaine told him everything. The iffy relationship he'd had with his parents since he told them he was gay, long before the mark on his foot appeared; the tense relationship with his much older brother. His sudden change in majors from performing arts to medicine when his best friend became seriously ill their sophomore year in college.

"I started working here last year," he continued. "It's been absolutely insane, but it's the best job I could ever imagine."

"That's great."

"What about you?" Blaine asked.

"I'm originally from Ohio," Kurt said. "My mom passed away when I was eight, so it was just me and my dad. He got remarried when I was in high school. They weren't matched, but her husband had died, too and, well, they seemed to be in love, so why not give it a shot? And, I gotta admit, they're pretty adorable together."

Blaine chuckled with Kurt. It was always nice to hear those stories of people finding love after the passing of their soul mate. Even now, it seemed to offer some strange sense of comfort.

Kurt went on to tell Blaine about his troubles during high school and the freedom he finally found in New York. He told Blaine about finding his calling in fashion design and getting to work Vivienne Westwood in London for a couple years before returning to New York and working with Chanel.

"I think that might be what's unfairest about all of this," Kurt said. "I'm not even supposed to be in Chicago, but my boss couldn't come at the last minute and sent me in his place. I shouldn't even be here."

Just when Blaine thought his heart couldn’t break any more.

"I think I would have loved you, Blaine Anderson."

"I think I would have loved you, too."

THE END


End file.
